“Oh, thank God.” Lara unzips the front pocket and pulls out her wallet first, then her keys, before dropping them back inside. “Safe and sound. Thank you so much!”
“Anytime.” The guy grins, happy to play the hero, even though he didn’t do anything except happen to be on point for the lost and found.
“Whew, that gave me a scare.” Lara slings the bag over her shoulder and puts her hand over her heart, leading me away from the line to a less crowded space near the restrooms. “What an absolute nightmare of a morning. Cal, I feel terrible leaving you, but I need to figure some things out. Then we’ll see where we land, okay?”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Before she can answer, her phone rings in her hand. She looks down and holds up a finger. “Hang on, this is my friend who used to rent the studio. I’d better take it. Please don’t say a word to anyone until we talk again, all right? Everything will be okay, I promise.” I nod, and she quickly pecks my cheek before turning away with her phone to her ear. “Dominick? Dominick, is that you? I can barely hear you. I’m going to find someplace quieter.” She heads for the café exit, and I slump against the wall. I can’t decide if I actually feel worse after talking with Lara, or just no better.
Wrong is wrong.
I don’t know what to do next. Do I head back to Garrett’s? Are Mateo and Ivy even still there? What am I supposed to say to them if they are? I move sluggishly toward the exit, then trudge back to Lechmere station on autopilot, scrolling through my phone. The last text message I have is from Lara agreeing to meet; there’s not a single person at Carlton High who got in touch to share the news about Boney. Who am I kidding? My so-called friends probably haven’t even noticed I’m not there.
When I insert my CharlieCard into the station turnstile and step through, there’s already a train waiting with open doors. I climb the train’s steps and scan the half-full compartment, selecting a window seat toward the front. Then I settle onto the hard plastic chair and gaze at the bright fall day outside, my mind churning and full of questions that seem impossible to answer.
“Hey, Cal.”
Somebody pokes my shoulder. I turn, and nearly slide off my seat in shock when I realize it’s Ivy. She and Mateo are sitting side by side behind me, and for a second I’m so happy to see friendly faces that it doesn’t occur to me to question why they’re here. Then Ivy speaks, and wipes the half smile that’s forming on my lips right off.
“So we followed you,” she says.
IVY
“You did what?” Cal sputters as the doors close and the train lurches forward. He twists fully in his seat, his gaze darting between me and Mateo. “Followed me where?”
“The café,” I say. “To your…meeting.” I wait a beat for him to respond, and when he doesn’t, I add, “With Ms. Jamison.”
Cal stares at the ground. “So you spied on me,” he says flatly.
I guiltily cut my eyes toward Mateo. That’s not all we did. Not even close, but now doesn’t seem like the time to bring that up. “We were worried about you,” I say.
“It’s no big deal,” Cal says, unrolling his sleeves. You’d think he’d know by now it’s a dead giveaway that he’s being sketchy. “I was supposed to meet somebody, but she didn’t show, and I ran into Ms. Jamison instead. We ended up talking about my midterm project.”
Mateo and I exchange incredulous glances. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting Cal to deploy such deep denial, and it renders me momentarily speechless. “Dude, come on,” Mateo says, stepping in while I blink at Cal. “We saw.”
“Saw me talking about school,” Cal says stubbornly. Mateo gives me a helpless look like, Well, I tried my best. Back to you, Ivy.
“Cal, you don’t seem to understand what we’re telling you,” I say. “It’s not like we just caught a glimpse of you and Ms. Jamison through the window. Remember that big potted fern next to your table?” I get a blank look in return, of course, because he was too busy staring into Ms. Jamison’s eyes. I could’ve tap-danced past them in a clown costume and he wouldn’t have noticed. “We were sitting behind it and heard your entire conversation. We know it’s her studio, and we saw the two of you holding hands.” Cal winces like he’d been hoping we’d shown up after that part. “She’s your mystery girl. So please stop pretending you left us to stew in a bar for an hour after our classmate died so you could talk about a school project.”